Fire, Ice, and Asian
by twiddlekinks
Summary: Angsty Chinese Ravenclaw meets Gryffindor and Slytherin couple. A bit of GinnyDracoCho.


After mentioning this idea on an LJ Comment while bidding for Sarea Okelani on Propheting, I couldn't get the fic bunny out of my head. Therefore, while I know it's not totally kosher, I bring you...

**-i-**

**Fire, Ice, and Asian**  
Angsty Chinese Ravenclaw meets Gryffindor and Slytherin couple.  
A bit of Ginny/Draco/Cho.  
by twiddlekinks

Note: This takes place directly after the fifth book. After Cho's had her Harry debacle and before Draco's turn for the worst.

**-i-**

I've been watching them.

Those smiles when they think no one's looking. Those fleeting glances, those hurried touches, all swift and sacred. They're in love with the desperate urgency. They're in love with the inevitable risk. They're in love with each other.

As usual, no one notices, and no one notices me. The silent smart girl, the quiet Chinese girl, the beautiful shy girl who snagged Harry Potter's attention, and lost it.

I'm sick of it. Again. After Cedric, there hasn't really been anything to pin hope on. There was the excitement once glistening in green eyes. Now that's gone, and I don't really find myself missing it.

However, the time is well past due for another Asian Invasion.

But what can I offer _them_?

The blush of subsided quiet? The swish and flick of hair that's grown too long and too dark and needs a cut? The academic indifference? The silent ghost of tears? I'm just Ravenclaw's toppled seeker, the grounded ace. I could sacrifice all of me on the altar of their love, for a quick peek into the passion, or the fury. It's not much, but anything's worth a shot, right? You've got to dive to grab the golden wings...

Honestly, it'd be nice to take a break from apathy. If one person pulled me out of it for a bit with a bumbling kiss and nervous knickers, then how much more can two people do?

A hell of a lot, perhaps. Eh, why not? It's my last year, and I don't really have anything better to do. 

**-i-**

I'm still a prefect, even after all that's happened. Six years of academic exactitude and honorable intentions are more than enough to procure a badge and a patrol path. And one day, my chance comes.

I turn the corner, and catch a flash of fire. A stifled moan. I check my watch. Filch has just made his way to the other end of the castle. I have plenty of time.

I walk towards the portrait of Baldric the...well, Bald. I almost laugh, but the situation calls for quiet. I can hear a few semi-silent sighs, a moan, a groan. I clear my throat. Ah -- an audible gasp.

"Who was that?" I hear a girl's voice, a faint glimmer in the night. I smile inwardly.

"How should I know?" A haughty retort. "I had the same view you did."

"Yes, but you should go look..."

"So?"

"It's probably a teacher..."

"Your point?"

I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. "So, as much as I hate to admit it, you've got some distinct powers of persuasion. Especially since I think it's Snape's watch tonight."

It is indeed Snape's watch, but he's sniffing among his potions, and McGonagall's purring over papers. No other teachers are out or about. I clear my throat again. Mercury eyes gleam from around the tapestry, a quicksilver boy in a darkened hall. His glance knifes through the night. Then he sees me, and I can see his shoulders relax tremendously.

He nods. "Chang."

I nod. "Malfoy."

And then I stand there.

He gets somewhat nervous, I know. No matter how recalcitrant I've become, I don't often just stare at people like I want to eat them for dinner. But Malfoy is truly delectable. Angled cheekbones, aristocratic nose, stormy eyes, moonlit hair... Even the snarky wit has a fantastic bite, complementing the eyes that crave... something. And I do like tall, moody men... I lick my lips.

He starts visibly. His lips part, and he's about to say something --

"Draco?" comes a soft inquiry. "Who--" and then she steps out and sees me. I receive another salutatory nod. "Chang."

"Weasley." I nod in her general direction, too. And pause to admire the view. Her melted copper hair is mussed, her chocolate eyes are cinnamon-bright, and her lips are fully kissed and kissable. Especially when spewing forth hexes or intelligent quippy comebacks. I lick my own lips again.

The two of them together are a dragon and its flame, a phoenix flying with smoke, both dangerous in aloof combinations. The two of them are passionate and fierce, with a twist of dark that's barely withheld. The two of them are perfect analogies to sun and rain, or pleasure and pain. The two of them look at each other, and each raises one eyebrow in sync. I know then, that the sex will be great.

"Chang." Malfoy tries again. "Can I help you with anything?" His cool smirk acknowledges that he knows I find him attractive; it's fairly easy to read in my pointed looks. But I can tell that he's still a tad shaken, and I like it.

"As a matter of fact, Malfoy, you can." 

"No, he can't," Ginny interrupts, with a determined chin and a firm stance. "I know you're looking at him like the cat who's got the cream, Chang, but he's mine. Sorry. Well, I'm not sorry, but in any case, you can't have the tasty little ferret."

In spite of myself, I like this, too. Their hackles are rising, and it warms my cockles. "Actually, Ginny," I reply -- I've always pictured her brothers with the "Weasley" label. She's always been Ginny, girlie Ginny, going after Harry... until we both saw through that one. I'm getting distracted. "Actually, Ginny," I try again. "I'd love _your_ help, too."

Without further ado, I outline my plan. Sex in exchange for silence. It's not a bad idea, really. I receive similar shots of surprise. Hmm... I could grow addicted to the unexpected. It's vaguely pleasant, in a way I've long since forgotten.

**-i-**

A few steps later, and I open the door to the Room of Requirement. Perhaps it was a little low to threaten them with -- er, _hint at_ -- public exposure. They still seem a bit wary, but after a bit of conversation, they follow me in, nonetheless. I know that Ronald Weasley would have an apoplexy, and I guess that they're at the stage when commitment has just been established, but familial ties have yet to be ironed out. I shrug. Threat or no, it seems fitting -- by taking points from each house and issuing detention for public snogging in the halls, I'd expose them, unless they chose to "expose" themselves. To me.

I know they're both perfectly capable of refraining or saying "no" and "to the hell with it!" But I also know they're curious, and I'm past the point of caring. Without further preamble, I undo the clasp to my robes. They fall to the floor, leaving me in a red silk Chinese blouse and black silk pants. I hadn't felt like wearing the school uniform tonight, and no one can see what's beneath these robes, anyway.

Ginny's eyes are bright. Perhaps a tad turned-on. I've always trusted my observations, and I'm not a Ravenclaw for nothing. She's always been exploratory, and I know that proud Draco will not back down from any escapade that strikes her fancy. He _is_ a seeker, after all. With a bit of tunnel vision, perhaps, but full of driving passion. Passion breeds nymphomaniacs, in the best case scenario. I was hoping for a bit of that tonight.

I turn to Ginny. Womanly intuition and societal standards have always dictated a simple rule. "Ladies first," I murmur, and run a slim hand through her hair. I start at her temples, sliding my piano-toned fingers to various pressure points. She sighs, a light puff of air. I begin at the top button, and I can hear Draco growl. He immediately steps behind her, snakes his arm around her waist, and kisses just behind her ear.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he whispers harshly.

She looks at me. I pause. She looks at him. She looks at me again. "Yes," she finally says, firmly. I give her a half-knowing smile. Then she smirks at him. "Why? Are you scared you can't keep up?" 

He smirks right back, and the identical expressions send a tingle up my spine. "Ginny," he says, "I can _always_ keep up."

Then he's crushing his lips to hers as both of them reach out and draw me in. And then I know that they've given in to the curiosity of the moment, the frantic expression of mythic beasts, raging within. Serpentine dragon and firebird phoenix. 

Their pale skin seems to glow in the starlight. I'm pale, too, but a slightly different shade. While they're made of eternal moonshine, I reflect ephemeral sunset tinges. Asian golden glow. I know that I'm just a transient flash in their loving passionate vibe, but I don't care. Just once, and it'll be enough to touch and be touched.

We tumble, wrestle, grope, conveniently falling onto the soft sheets provided by the Room. They breathe the passion and the fury, and I am lost. In them, in the moment, in and out and hot and fierce and lovely. So very beautiful.

**-i-**

After it all, I get up, and casually reapply my clothes. Draco is looking at Ginny with a puzzled but more-than-complacent air. She nods, then faces me. I know what's coming. It's inevitable. And they _are_ curious. Who wouldn't be. Ginny peruses my face, intent. "Chang. Why?"

I can't help it. A grin slides across my face, and I find myself replying, "Hey, Chinese chicks have an affinity for red and dragons. Good fortune and folklore, respectively." I always feel slightly goofy after great sex. And this bit was euphoria enough to last quite a while.

Ginny looks blank. I explain, "Red is the color of good fortune. On someone's birthday, you wear red because it's traditionally lucky. I love Ginny's hair -- always have. And dragons... well, it's no secret that dragons are quite the cool thing in Chinese folklore. Oh, yes. And, in case you missed it, I'm Chinese."

I receive a tolerant smile at the last statement. It's odd, the same smile coming from two very different people. But then again, they're not so different, are they?

They turn to each other and converse in quiet tones. Ginny's eyes are so expressive, and her mouth purses in various scrunches and pouts. And I've always loved how the noses on white boys move up and down when they talk -- just the tips, flexing with each inflection. It's adorable. My nose will never do that, the poor button thing. Ah, the genes. Small body, small nose. You give some, you get some. Win some, lose some. I catch the words, "fire," "passion," "bright," "always," "love." I know from the slight glistening of her eyes and the radiance of her smile that the "love" is still potent for them. I hope, for their sakes, that it always will be. They'll have a rough time ahead, I know. I continue gathering my raiment. The red silk, the black silk, the dark uniform robes. Soon, I'll meld back into the crowd, another face among the shadows, another whisper of overlooked observations. It's been almost like a trial run, playing dirty for a day. For now, it's enough.

I break into their quiet conversation. "Thanks, guys." I turn towards the door.

"Any time, Chang." It's Draco's reply. But when I turn towards them, I see Ginny's almost imperceptible nod. I can tell she's impressed, despite herself. And supremely confident, and shining, just the same. She echoes him. "Any time."

"Perhaps." I smile. It's the smile of a thousand promised glances, an innocuous sharing of sorts. But I've also got other things to consider. That gothically appealing Mohawk of a loony blonde housemate, for example. Or a foray into the black-polished fingernails of an Italian Slytherin. Or the two of them together. I lick my lips in anticipation. Then I realize that I've said this aloud, and the current couple is more than slightly surprised again. And a tad turned-on. I find that all of this "unexpected" is uber appealing. For once, I feel free. Perhaps I should take Parkinson up on that age-old offer of hers.

The two look at me with somewhat surprised eyes. Then Ginny winks, a teasing cameraderie in her smile. I realize that I've voiced my thoughts aloud, but, oddly enough, none of it phases me. Not anymore.

I grin. I've found a new nonchalance, and I slip into it like a dark cloak.

Then, as I turn to leave, I realize: rather than trapping them, they have trapped me. And released a bundle of things. A taste of freedom. A tingling of power. A touch of fire and ice and Asian.

I've watched it all. And I like it.

**-i-**

Note#1: Some ideas were inspired by Playing Dirty (by SareaOkelani), and by Trial Run (by Mynuet). And 'tis Mynuet's phrasing in reference to Pansy's lewd enemy-sex threats towards Cho and her Chinese good looks. (I'm quite looking forward to your D/G/C fic, by the way, dearie!) The remainder of this insanity can be blamed on my own zany Asian vibes, and was primarily inspired by bidding on SareaOkelani's fic for the Propheting Red Cross Blood Drive.

Note#2: Are there any other fics out there with these three characters? Please recommend!


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